Blithe
by TheLustofkilling
Summary: Nny seems to be having some trouble understanding the words of a man, and the meaning of the word Blithe. It is just a little twisted drabble on a little twisted tale. Read if you enjoy JTHM. No pairings, lots of violence and messed up themes.


-1

Not one of my better works. I own nothing.

Chapter 0089: Blithe

One word that I could only find from that dictionary. Was it so hard to believe that I had one? To think that one person could dominate over a simple word. Did you know that in the dictionary, the word is outstretched, the meaning of it that is. And they make it look pretty. They make it look so glorious. They make it look like it's the most beautiful word in the world. Bullshit. The word covers up the antonyms of it. It's synonyms meaning the opposite of it, which form it's antonyms, which could be transformed into the synonyms. I'm the Antonym. I'm the opposite. I AM THE DIFFERENT MEANING OF THE WORD.

I wasn't always this way. No, I wasn't. I was happy, like the word in itself. I guess I should tell you the meaning. The meaning of the word Blithe, if many of you haven't already looked up on your computers, or in YOUR nearest dictionaries, is: a very happy feeling, merry, joyous, cheerful, and carefree. I wish I could erase the word, erase it and all the words like it. I want to destroy it and then make sure that anyone who uses it is destroyed themselves…Yes…I could do that. Make sure that everyone on this earth knows what its like to loose someone. It would be easy.

Blithe is the meaning of something and or someone having a feeling of complete and utter joy and bliss, or in other words, something that I don't. I looked to my side. The man that hung there gave a glum nod, as if he were going to make it out of his coat of chains. I gave him a small smile. "Do you know the meaning of Blithe?" I asked him. My voice was dark, as my voice tended to conceive often when I came onto this mood.

He looked at me for a long time, and then he seemed to stare down at the ground, "Yes, yes I do." He said with a small smile. He then began to hum a little tune, "A is for airy, means calmly nice and constructive…"

"No it doesn't…." I said to him, but he ignored me, too buisy in his irritating song to think about my words.

"B is for Blithe which is happy all the time…" He looked down at me with a smile, "Happy." He gave a sigh, "Why are you not happy?"

I held my hands out, "Does it look like I am not happy?" I asked him. I had no heart to tell him my true nature and that I really was not happy and that I was in fact, the opposite of happy and blithe. I looked at him as he tried to itch a part of his side through his chains.

"I don't think you are Blithe at all." He said simply. He then continued to yawn and then look at me.

I looked at him right back and then felt a twinge of something crawl of the back of my spine. There was something in this man's eyes, in his head that was beginning to chew at me. I gave a step back, "What do you mean?" I asked him. I began to turn from him.

"Don't turn from me please…" He then continued when I paused, though his tone was more gentle, "It is very hard to read you from this position."

I was a little put off by this statement. I turned to him, "What do you mean?" I asked him, wanting to know, beginning to crave that knowledge from him. I began to stare at him, giving him my full attention. "Tell me now."

"Tell you what? I can not tell you anything that you won't understand in the end." He looked at me, and I could tell that there was nothing but a sad truth in his eyes.

I looked at him, "Tell me what you mean by both those comments you meant at me!" I said, my voice raising. I know that he knew that I was growing angry. He had to know what he meant back when he said what he said.

He now looked at me with a small smirk, "Do you…know what I mean when I said that I could read you?" He asked. He looked at my face, I could feel like he was reading every emotion of mine.

"What?" I asked him, feeling confusion coming over me all of a sudden.

"Well, when I said that, I meant that I could read your emotions. You see, some people are good at it. Humans have an ability to read other human's emotions, weather it be through contact…or just by looking at them." His gaze suddenly felt like it was burning into me and I couldn't help but cringe slightly. I was suppose to be the one who was making him cringe.

"You can read me?" I asked. I had never heard of this, sense when did humans take the time to go through the trouble of reading through the emotions of others? That sounded so…odd.

"Yes." He looked at me with a very gentle gaze, "That's what I meant by the whole, 'You aren't very blithe at all' thing." He smiled at his words and then at me, "You are the opposite, aren't you?" He asked me.

I felt the heat jump up into me again, the heat scorching into the fire of my face, and suddenly realizing that I was blushing in front of this man. I turned from him.

"Hey….It's okay, don't be ashamed, it's only natural." He stated to me.

I looked back at him, "No…No, not anymore. Don't you see? Something's are not suppose to happen anymore."

"What do you mean?" He asked me. He looked so confused.

I clenched my fists together and then I glared at him, "I don't feel anything, this feeling of blithe is bullshit. I don't believe that you can feel it either." I walked over to the table and pulled up a knife.

"You don't think that I can't feel the feeling blithe? You don't think that I don't feel anything? I feel emotions just as you feel it as well." He said aloud, his voice coming over me and then leaving just the same, though echoing just slightly. I feared that they would never leave.

I was hoping that they would leave, though the longer they stayed, the more I began to fear they would never go. I looked at him, "Shut up." I said to him.

"Why? I'm going to die right, I should leave you with some words that will always echo in your head while I rot down here, right?" He asked.

I looked at him. He smiled down at me. I gave him a glare and then raised my knife, making a threat for him to talk, daring him to say one last word. He did.

"Have a blithe day. I hope that you may someday turn into a blithe person and come to respect my own…" I brought the blade down inside of his chest, the chains blocking most of by cut, though it got most of his skin, and cracked through his rib cage.

I heard the bone break and then I heard him laugh and I looked up as he hung from the chain. I couldn't help but back away from him, fear coming over me for a second. I looked at him as he read all of my features. Then, as his blood trickled out and then over all of his chains that bound him to the ceiling, he gurgled out, "My own Blithe feelings for humanity." Then he closed his eyes and I watched as his body gave way to the thoughts of death. Then he died.

I threw the knife down, walking away from the blade and the man who was now bleeding the rest of his blood out all on my floor. I began to close the door. But, as I began to walk out, I felt the most odd feeling come over me, and it was the most odd one of all. I don't even know what it is.

As I walked up all of the steps to my kitchen though, I felt a hot tear roll down my face. Only a single one. I thought for a second that it was for the man, for the man that I had just killed. One of the only men that could and took the time to read the humans, those pathetic souls. He was one of the good ones, and I had killed another one.

The end.

5:47 pm 0000999

-TheLustofKilling

Don't die when you can live

Don't live when you can die

Don't thrive when you can decay

And don't decay when you can thrive.


End file.
